The Witch's Grave of York Maine: Is The Story True?

A while ago someone who reads this blog asked me to post about an alleged witch's grave in York, Maine. What a great idea! I love old graveyards, and I love New England witches. So here's a post that brings those two great tastes together like a Reese's peanut butter cup of the uncanny.

When I was a kid my family went to York, Maine a few times for vacations. I remember going to the beach, and visiting the zoo there. When I was a kid I think it was called York Wild Animal Farm, but these days it's York's Wild Kingdom.

As far as I know, we did not visit the Old Burying Ground, which is located in charming and historic York Village. It's too bad, because as with most charming cemeteries around here it has a weird legend is attached to it. I probably would have enjoyed hearing it.

The legend is about the grave of Mary Nasson, who who passed away in 1774. Her gravestone is a little different than the others. It has a portrait of Mary on it, and is covered with a big stone slab.

Photo from The Journal Inquirer.

A plaque on the cemetery wall indicates that the stone slab was put there by her family to prevent animals from digging around in Mary's grave. Local folklore gives another explanation: it was put there to keep Mary, who was a witch, from rising from the dead.

I think the stone succeeded in keeping the animals away, but it hasn't kept Mary's ghost from coming up to the surface. According to Joseph Citro's Weird New England, her ghost has reportedly been seen pushing local children on swings and giving them wildflowers. Hmmm. For a witch's ghost she doesn't seem particularly menacing. Online I've found quite a few sites claiming that Mary Nasson only acquired her witchy reputation because she was an effective herbalist. Her neighbors didn't understand how her cures worked and therefore thought they were magic. Oh, and maybe she could perform exorcisms...

Image from Atlas Obscura

Those stories indicate that Mary was basically a good person, and if she was a witch she only practiced white magic. Other, creepier stories say Mary was executed for witchcraft and that her gravestone emanates a strange heat. The crows that flock around the cemetery are said to be her familiars. Spooky!

So, was Mary Nasson a good witch, or a bad witch, or just someone who has an unusual gravestone? Are any of these legends true?

I don't know if they are true, but they definitely are old. I thought they might just be recent urban folklore but found they date back to at least the 19th century. I found this passage in ‪1894's Ancient City of Gorgeana and Modern Town of York (Maine) from Its Earliest Settlement‬: ‪Also Its Beaches and Summer Resorts‬ by George Alexander Emery:

Near the southwest corner of the old burying-ground is a grave, with head and foot stones, between which and lying on the grave is a large flat rock, as large as the grave itself. The inscription reads thus: - "Mary Nasson, wife of Samuel Nasson, died August 28, 1774, aged 29 years." No one, at least in this town, seems to know anything about her origin, death or even of the singular looking grave. No other occupant of a grave bearing this cognomen can be found in this cemetery, and the name is unknown in the town. A great many surmises and conjectures have been advanced in regard to this matter, in order to arrive at the facts, if there be any, and to clear up the dark affair, but nothing definite has ever come out of the effort. The writer of this, when a youth, living in York, was given to understand that this stone was placed there to keep down a witch that was buried beneath it.

In short, no one knows the real, historically-documented truth about Mary Nasson. Although George Alexander Emery doesn't believe Mary Nasson was a witch, he adds fuel to the fire by providing yet another legend. According to this one, a disembodied evil spirit used to haunt some rooms in an old house near the cemetery. It was banished from the house, but now roams the cemetery's perimeter, waiting for Mary to arise from her grave and join it.

I don't like to debunk legends; I like to savor them, so I'll just close with a couple thoughts. First, anomalous gravestones often attract legends. Rightly or wrongly, people tend to think that strange graves must contain strange occupants. 

Second, the idea is very old that special effort is required to restrain a restless spirit. For example, in old European vampire lore a stake to the heart literally nails a vampire into its grave. Closer to home, Eunice Cole, an accused witch of Hampton, New Hampshire, was supposedly staked through the heart after death and had a horseshoe placed on top of her. It's not unreasonable (in folk belief) to think that a big rock might keep a ghost from coming out of the grave.

One last note: I am now writing a bi-monthly column for Spare Change News called Bizarre Boston. If you live or work in Boston be sure to buy an issue and help the city's homeless community. You can see one of my columns (about a Boston smallpox epidemic) here.

Old Burying Ground in Cambridge, and Maybe Some Ghosts

Tomorrow is Memorial Day, so I suppose it's appropriate that I stopped by Cambridge's Old Burying Ground yesterday on my way to see a matinee. I've walked by this historic cemetery for years and have never gone inside.

I'm glad I did. Like most cemeteries it was very peaceful inside, even though it's only a few steps from the Harvard Square T-stop. In fact, tt was so peaceful someone was sitting in the lotus position meditating.

The Old Burying Ground dates back to the early 1600s, and has lots of gravestones in the three classic New England styles: skulls, cherubs, and willow and urn.

A very ornate death's head.

Another ornate carving, this time of a cherub.

This cherub looks a little dour.

Willow and urn.

There are also some things I hadn't really seen before. Some of the gravestone inscriptions are in Latin. Not just a little Latin, like "Requiescat In Pace," but paragraphs of dense Latin.

Break out the Latin dictionary!

 The Latin-inscribed markers all seem to be for Harvard faculty and librarians. If you were erudite while alive, you might as well let people know it after you're dead too.

In addition to the Latin gravestones, some other stones had elaborately unfinished backsides. Take a look at this one.

But from the front, it's just a standard gravestone.

The Old Burying Ground is host to several soldiers from the Revolutionary War. There's a prominent marker for several Cambridge men who were killed at the Battle of Lexington and Concord, and two African-American soldiers from the Revolution are also buried in the cemetery. I didn't find their markers, but one of the men was named Neptune Frost, which is an amazing name. The other black soldier's name was Cato Stedman, so they both had Latin names.

I assumed there must be a ghost story associated with the Old Burying Ground, but there really isn't anything definite. Sam Altrusis, in his book Ghosts of Cambridge: Haunts of Harvard Square and Beyond, claims that the Old Burying Ground is indeed full of spirits, but they're not particularly malevolent or active. None of them are identified by name. It sounds like they're just hanging out enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

If you do want someplace a little more haunted, you might visit Christ Church Cambridge, which is located next door. The church is supposedly haunted by the ghost of a British soldier who was buried inside the building during the Revolution. His burial so angered the local Patriots that they rioted and vandalized the building, and his spirit has haunted the place ever since. The lesson to this story? Be nice to dead people, and they'll be nice to you.

Early New England Gravestone Styles: From Morbid to Contemplative

I enjoy walking around old cemeteries, and I bet a lot of my readers are the same. The really, really old graveyards are the most interesting to me. They give a glimpse at what life (and death) was like here centuries ago.

The earliest gravestones you can find are from the 17th century, when this area was a hotbed of orthodox Puritanism. Although the Puritans apparently weren't as grim as many people think (they did invent Thanksgiving, after all!), their religious outlook was still pretty gloomy. Gravestones from this era are decorated with skulls, usually winged.

Grave of Edward Dean, 1716, Charter Street Burying Ground, Salem

The Puritans were staunch Christians, but their religious beliefs didn't provide a lot of hope for the individual. Only God knew who would be admitted to Heaven, and He didn't tell anyone. Even the most devout people went through life fearing not only death, but that they would be sent to Hell by God. I've read somewhere that young Puritan children were often sent to look at open graves and watch burials so they could meditate on their own mortality and innate sinfulness.

The fears created by Puritan religious beliefs were probably compounded by how unstable the New England settlements were in the 17th century. Indian attacks, war with the French, piracy, outbreaks of disease, and the occasional witch hunt all made the world feel threatening. No wonder they carved skulls on their tombstones.

Grave of Sarah Gardner, 1791, Charter Steet Burying Ground, Salem

Although death's heads continued to be used in the 18th century, they were slowly replaced by a new image: cherubs. It's almost like the winged skulls grew their skin back! Cherubs started to appear shortly after the Great Awakening swept over New England. The ministers of the Great Awakening emphasized personal revelation and close study of the Bible, rather than relying solely on official religious authorities. Many schisms split apart the New England churches, and people found new enthusiasm for religion. There was also an emphasis on resurrection, which is reflected the cherubs, who are often smiling. The settlements at this time began to feel more permanent, and there were fewer external threats to New England.

Grave of Captain Clifford Crowninshield, 1809, Charter Street Burying Ground, Salem

Gravestones decorated with willows and urns slowly replaced the cherubs in the 19th century. The urn-and-willow motif apparently began in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which was a center for intellectual trends like the Greek revival, which sought a return to classical forms in art and architecture. Also spreading across New England from Harvard University was Unitarianism, which brought a more intellectual approach to the old Puritan congregations. Both skulls and cherubs were too visceral for this new, more philosophical strand of Christianity. In the 19th century New England was the intellectual and financial center of the United States, and I think the new peace and prosperity are probably reflected in this soothing grave art as well.

If you want to read more about this, you should check out "Death's Head, Cherub, Urn and Willow," a famous article printed in 1967 in Natural History. The authors lay it all out in much greater detail than I did. Have fun exploring your local graveyard!